Traces

Living in the heart alleviates

the dull corporeal roar

of tension fusing to our minds

like fluffy sugar-stringed webbing

running round a cotton candy cone.

The sagging sleepless bundles

bunched beneath your eyes

and blushing laminated arrays,

the many hues of chardonnay.

We crave that transitory glimmer

a frothy brew of over-whelming chemistry

and topsy-turvy, wavering souflées
served hesitantly, to a guest not yet

ready for uncharted mental contents
to unravel before his eyes, and thoughts

whose residues will never coalesce 

like pock-marked petri dishes 

in easy sequences again
and energize our source of being:

The solar plexus-nexus.